Shadowside: The Pale Rider Chronicles
by lunarpetals
Summary: For Saaya, life is a constant struggle. Born under the wrong moon, he is what he considers a flaw of nature, a product of two worlds that is accepted by neither. But unknown to most, he controls a power no mortal force could rival, or ever hope to evade.
1. Chapter 1

And she cried out to the heavens as pain tore across her body. The midwife hurried to make sure no complications followed the process. Her assistant fervently wiped and cooled the hurting mother. "Push! Yes, that's it!" the old woman urged as she finally caught sight of the newborn.

Her husband stood by the window, arms folded and, like his wife, his gaze cast skyward. The night sky was calm and the infinite darkness spilled out across the land, the moon resting center, so full and bright. Finally, he was going to be a father. For a moment all trace of worry vanished. Love overflowed in him. He would raise his child well. To think that even when it seemed like the whole world was against them, against their union, their pairing, when all the world seemed against their love, they persevered and their love blossomed into something greater than they had expected. He thought of when he first met his wife. And then he smiled.

It was a feint cry, but still a good sign. The child was well. The old woman glanced back at her patient. She was asleep now, but notably breathing. All turned smoothly. She cradled the babe in her aged hands and wrapped the delicate young creature in a blanket. "A boy." She whispered in the mother's ear. "Congratulations, Kaya. You're a mother now." She was about to get up and head for the child's father when the babe suddenly cried and shrieked a wail of genuine pain.

He whispered his thanks to his ancestors. Truly, he was blessed. A son, just what he asked for. He was to turn back and sit by wife when he saw something amiss. There, all of the joy and sanity fled from him. The moon was bleeding, as if a fine blade had cut right through it. "No…!"

The midwife stood puzzled. Why was the child weeping? "Maro!" she called to the father, who still standing by the window. Perhaps he didn't hear her, she surmised, and went closer. "Maro!" she called again, but the man still did not move. Worried and irritated, she rushed to his side and demanded his full attention. "Maro! Your child, he—" But he dared to still not face her. Curious as to what kept him so preoccupied for him to even go lengths ignoring the cries of his son, she went to see for herself what the fuss was about. And she felt her knees weaken to a degree far worse than what age had wrought. The babe's cries grew louder and more pained, and it broke the midwife's heart that the young one was far beyond her help. She held onto the child tightly, and could only pray that he made it through the nightmare.

Maro was speechless. He had no idea fate could be so treacherous. His son did not deserve such a destiny! He begged the spirits to take him instead, to let him be the one to suffer instead. He trembled. He knelt. Sorrow welled up in his eyes. Rage and fear danced the circle of madness in his head. "No! You cannot do this! He's a child! You cannot do this!" Yet deep inside he knew he was on a hopeless course. He heard his wife awaken behind him. She asked what was going on. She wouldn't understand, he knew well enough. She was not born of dragons. And he envied that innocence. He turned to face her. And she beheld his tears.


	2. Chapter 2

He struggled to catch his breath. Running non-stop for the past two days now. Surely he had already covered a good number of miles. It was a pretty sure bet that they've lost his trail. It was safe. It should be. There was nobody else out there. He leaded against the aged trunk and basked in the shade of the thousand pine needles. The breeze restored some of his vigor. Perhaps an hour of rest wouldn't be so bad. He saw a pond some meters back. He could fish and cook himself up a decent meal. The sun was setting now, enveloping the land in its majestic orange glow. Just a few more miles until he reached the border. Then it was going to be smooth sailing after that. It seemed like a plan. That was until he felt a boot crush his side. He crashed against a tree and rolled down the slope. He scrambled to his knees and glanced frantically about. What on earth just hit him? He unleashed a jet of fire upon the tree line to his right. "Who are you?"

Only silence.

"Come out and face me!" he issued the challenge. And he regretted such foolishness. The same searing agony tore across his back as the face of the earth rose to greet him. Everything was black. He tried to recall the days before he ran for his life. The docks had more than enough men and therefore had to let some people go. He was among them. With no money and a rumbling stomach, he stole some pieces of bread. A boy from on of the Earth Kingdom colonies saw him. In panic, he struck. He didn't mean to. It was never his choice to become a thief and killer. Society shaped him that way. In minutes he was arrested. Gagged, bound, and beaten. Trial came very soon after. There was a malicious twinge of hope in him, that the throne would favor his desperate self for he was a son of Fire. Oh, how cruel was fate, betraying expectations. "You favor slaves and prisoners over your own?" he remembered shouting at the council as they dragged him away to stand for his crimes. He was made to choose between four decades in a cell with his hands cut off, or face the noose. He chose freedom. And now there he was, lying flat on his face with a couple of bones probably broken. He groaned and clung to one of the trees for support.

"I wasn't hiding by the trees." A voice spoke from somewhere he could not rightly place. The man hadn't the slightest idea as to where to cast his eyes. "And I wouldn't try bending again, if I were you." It spoke again. This time, however, he was pretty sure his attacker was right behind him. "Kazure the convict, I presume?"

He spun in a wake of flames, high hopes his target would be caught in the blast. But there was nobody there, save for the small wandering flares and coals from earlier serving as witness to his empty display. He hadn't even finished blinking when all of a sudden a powerful grip seized his still outstretched arm and twisted with such force, splitting the bone into two with a rising cupped palm. Kazure fell to his knees as mountains of pain shattered his senses, and his assailant standing triumphantly before him.

"It would be better you listen to me if you wish to get back to the capital in one piece. My contract states I bring you back whether dead or alive. And I'm not really choosy when it comes to getting the job done."

He wanted to look away, but found himself unable to do so, to hide from the inhuman gaze of that creature. "Who are you?" Kazure flapped his jaws hysterically. That long black hair, those piercing gray eyes.

"That does not concern you."

"A bounty hunter, then?"

"Mercenary." He corrected.

"Why bother? There are worse dogs than me."

"I couldn't care less even if you ran amok and set the whole countryside on fire." He explained. "But I was paid to track you down and retrieve you. And as a man of principle, I will not dishonor that contract."

The runaway spat at his captor's feet. There was more blood than saliva.

"I'm going to forgive that." Said the young man, but slugged his prisoner still. Kazure fell hard on his back. He tugged at the convict's tunic and wiped the stain of his boot.

Kazure looked up at the stars. Defeat brought an unusual calmness. The mercenary towered over him. He finally accepted his course. His body felt numb. The injuries were there but they no longer hurt. Then his captor did something strange. The young man grabbed him by the collar. To his horror the stars vanished, pure night sky bearing down on him in unbridled rage. It was total darkness. He wanted to scream, but his tongue was frozen. The blackness closed in, choking him, and he felt his whole person displaced. Seconds passed like hours. And existence seemed to slip from his grasp. His vision blurred. The world around him dissolved. He closed his eyes.

But the pain he had expected did not come. It was a good thing that pain surged throughout his body once more. It meant he was alive. Kazure opened his eyes. There was light. Torch light. He blinked repeatedly, making sure it was no hallucination. He felt like a straw doll with the stuffing taken out and then shoved back in. He shook his head, shook the grogginess away. He then looked around. His hands were chained before him, his feet to the wall. What? How was it possible he was back in the capital so fast? Was it all a dream? But his body ached. The bones were still broken. He breathed heavily. Confusion devoured his mind. Then he heard some people talking, their voices echoing throughout the hallway, coming his way.

"Fine work there, kid. Looks like you were worth the money."

"Don't you forget it."

A small group entered the holding area. Kazure studied his guests. Two of them were very familiar. One was the warden of the capital prison. The other the demon that gave him a serious beating. He trembled uncontrollably, on the verge of tears.

"Guards," said the prison head. "Get this dreg patched up. Give'em a warm cell and make sure he eats a lot. Best he enjoys his last night."

Last night? He was going to die? He couldn't believe it. He would have none of it. The soldiers saluted and helped the prisoner up. But the moment his feet were free he shoved the guards aside, called forth his firebending and melted the chains apart. The blisters did not bother him as he ran straight for the man who brought him back to that miserable fortress. His bones still hurt like hell but if he was going die, then he might as well take that beast with him. "I was so close! I was so close!" he screamed, throwing fireballs as he went. All but the mercenary dove for cover. "Freedom was so close!" Kazure pulled back his unbroken arm and prepared to deliver his final, most powerful blow before all strength left his body. The young man just stood there and watched. Kazure drew nearer and nearer, his fist leading the way.

"Saaya, look out!" the warden called. But it seemed too late.

Then the young man vanished in a puff of black mist.

The convict stumbled forward but managed to stay on his toes. Kazure hung head in disbelief. Then there was a loud snapping, crunching sound. He felt a sudden jolt of pain on his nape. Then his eyes rolled back. The mercenary slowly withdrew his striking arm, prying his weapon free from the convict's neck. There was a loud thud as the man known as Kazure fell to the floor lifeless.

In his hands were twin slender iron rods some three feet in length, the upper half of each baton lined with small iron teeth. He swiped off the blood and gore that stained his weapon and sheathed them. Then he walked towards the still stunned guards. The warden, after picking up his jaw from the floor, handed the mercenary a small bag of gold. The young man smiled, nodded his farewell, and headed towards the shadowy end of the room where he melded with the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

"No! Please! Let me go! Help me!"

"Get your hands off of her!"

"Don't let them take me!"

"No!"

White. A nightmarishly ashen steed melting away in the distance.

The blow at the back of his head still pained him to this day. It wasn't physical agony. The trauma had already dulled long before the sun had set that dreadful day. What haunted him cut deeper, like an icy knife wrenched in his guts. And that phantom was failure.

He awoke with a scream, shaking his head to banish the memory for the time being. It will hound him again soon, he knew all too well. Cold sweat trickled down his face.

He looked out the window. It was still dark, the moon hanging lazily over the village, half-hiding behind the peaks of the mountains to the north. The sky was powdered with stars. Everything had a silver glow to them. He reached for the pouch hanging beside his bed and procured a small golden hairpin. He cradled it in both hands as the breeze seeped through his window and sent chills down his spine. A thousand memories swelled inside him. His heart beat faster, heavier, his breathing cut into rasps. He clutched the pin tightly and pressed it against his lips. Images from yester raced in his mind. They were so fresh.

She called out to him. She reached out her hand. She was counting on him. He watched them drag her away. He failed.

Before his emotions spiraled out of control he hurriedly stashed the pin back inside the pouch. He curled up and trembled, all strength having left him that moment. He whispered, "I haven't forgotten you. I haven't."

He lied on his back and forced himself to rest. He won't get anywhere near his goals with a sleepless mind.

He made his way down the mountain slope with a strange feeling of serenity. It was almost noon, and the sun was at its brightest. The skies were a rich blue, with some clouds accenting its beauty. The grass swayed merrily with the gusts. Birds sang their best melodies, and rabbits hopped about. Never had he seen the land so alive. So much like home, he thought, as bits of his childhood played in his mind.

He watched as the children played in the stream, how they splashed merrily, and their laughter and squeals filling the hot summer air. He wanted to join them badly, but trepidation had the better of him. He willed himself to look another way. What he can't see won't incite envy. Then he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He quickly looked up, and was relieved to see a friendly face.

"You want to come along?" asked the girl. She was always cheery. Seeing her was never a dull moment.

"No. But thanks for the offer, though." The boy answered. "I like it better here in the shade."

"You always say that." She giggled. "Okay, then. But if you change your mind, come and play with us, alright?" Just to be polite though having no real intentions of partaking, he nodded. He watched her skip down the slope, her pink-dyed robes flapping against the wind. Her name was Kouen. And it was a name he would never forget.

When everyone in the village avoided making contact with him after truth of his lineage got out, she was the only one who offered him friendship. However, not wanting to put her in hot water for being associated with an outcast, he politely refused. To his pleasant surprise, she took it all in good humor and maintained a warm bond with him throughout the seasons. She brought him sweets during village festivals. She shared with him bread whenever she chanced upon him sitting under the giant cypress on the hill. She defended him when the other children picked on him. He owed her his life. He owed her his heart.

At a young age he already began to question society and its penchant for social stigmatization. His mother named him Saaya, but people called him "Blackwater" because of his bloodline. He was born to a very unlikely couple. His father was once a lieutenant in the Fire Nation's army. His mother was among the rare female waterbenders hailing from the North Pole Water Tribe. Such a pairing was considered taboo and sacrilegious. Firebenders see it as a degeneracy to cohabit with people they've subjugated, while those of the Water Tribe find it outrageous to bed with the enemy.

The cry of a messenger hawk snatched him from his trance. He got back up and stretched out his arm for the bird to roost on, and undid the message strapped to its leg. It was a contract offer.

"_Greetings._

_We would again like to congratulate you on a job well done. The higher-ups were pleased, which is why we are sending you this letter. We have one more job offer we hope you would consider. This one is retrieval, and pay is top notch._

_Should you be interested, report back to the capital within the ten-day. We'll be waiting."_

He took a deep breath and contemplated. He took jobs, no matter the nature, because he was told, and he knew, that it would take him closer to his goals. An ample purse, while pleasing to the sense of touch, hardly mattered to him. Gold was merely a bonus. But there were times when he found his progress questionable. This was one of those times.

He folded the note and meant to stuff it in his pocket when he caught sight of markings on the back area of the parchment. They were map notes. _Thirty miles west_, it read. His eyes shone with selfish excitement. He immediately faced about and made his way back to the city.


	4. Chapter 4

"Your target's a merchant, located seventeen miles south of here. We haven't gotten a name yet, but he should be easy to spot. Rounded belly and a full beard. Fire Nation. He's been smuggling in some pirated goods, cheating the harbor of fees. Not much of a combatant, but he surrounds himself with hired help. There's one bodyguard of his that stands out. Tall guy, and an earthbender." The warden said, tapping his finger on the encircled part of the map. "We also hear the bodyguard's quite the brawler. Roughed up some troops during a fight. Nobody's dared to subdue him ever since."

Saaya, arms folded, paced about the desk, glancing at the map and back to the warden. "Sounds like you're investing too much to get rid of one pest, now."

"We can't allow this one to roam freely. He might inspire others to do the same." The man regarded the mercenary. "If that happens, it's my head in the smasher. And I've no intention of losing my job just yet, especially not over some filthy merchant." The warden ended with a derisive snort.

"So what are the conditions? Do I bring him here unscathed, or in pieces? And what happens after that?"

"Bring the merchant back alive. Under no circumstances will you use lethal force. We're gonna need him to testify."

"What about that bodyguard his?"

"Thanks for reminding me. Once he's apprehended, we might consider sending him to the Boiling Rock."

Saaya's eyes widened for a split second. You're kidding me, right? The Boiling Rock? Then this job is a lot more dangerous than you put it out to be, Saaya thought. Better be worth it.

"Remember: proceed with caution. These are not your run-in-the-mill meat heads. The boss is a quick thinker, and his right-hand man's a real fighter. Take your time with them, but make sure you get back here as soon as possible. The brass are dropping by soon and I'm expected to hand over a performance report." The warden made no effort to hide the underlying selfish meaning of his statement.

"Just make sure you live up to your end of the bargain." Saaya's tone like the warning rattle of a snake poised to strike.

The warden nodded and gave him the cool, usual "Of course." Yet despite great effort, a stain of fear still lingered in his eyes.

Saaya secured the twin rods that hung from his hips. He bid farewell with a nod and headed for the door.

"What, no fancy shadow tricks this time?" The warden asked in jest before his contact disappeared behind the corner.

The mercenary looked back with a wolfish grin on his face, and answered, "Come, now. Where's the excitement in that?"

Saaya got off the wagon and paid the teamster his gold.

"You take care now, sonny. These parts don't take kindly to drifters."

So I heard, Saaya thought to himself with a smile. "I'll be alright. Thanks for the warning, though."

The mercenary walked down the well-worn path as the sound of thundering hooves vanished off into the distance. A makeshift signpost that read "Kiba" stood vigil outside the main entrance. And there, four men were caught in a scuffle, exchanging fists and boots and gouts of flame. Three firebenders were ganging up on a civilian who seemed to be taking the matter too easily. Then all of a sudden the "civilian" seized one of his aggressors by the collar when the unfortunate firebender got too close for comfort. And in a display of sheer brute force, raised him up in the air for a second before sending him plummeting back to the earth where a pillar of stone rose timely to greet his foe. The remaining two considered their battered comrade, exchanged shocked glances, and without hesitation high-tailed back into town.

The dust had settled, and Saaya got a better view of the dominator. He towered over most people. Around an impressive, near seven feet tall, he presumed. And there was something about his fighting style that put Saaya on the edge for some reason. That earthbender emanated danger. There was no mistaking it. Saaya had found his man.

The town of Kiba, located just outside the Fire Nation capital, was a small one, with barely a hundred villagers in total composed of locals and colonists. A garrison housing twenty Fire Nation troops was stationed in the village to help maintain order. It was a relatively quiet town, with good trade relations with neighboring areas, and colony civilians got along with the local authorities, albeit the harmony standing on thin ice. Until recently. Civilian unrest was growing rampant, and violence was escalating. There had been reports that three Fire Nation soldiers were badly injured, all happening in the span of a month. Intelligence further indicated that the perpetrator was an earthbender, further complicating the relations between the military and colonist groups. The authorities opted to conduct swift raids to nail their guy, but the earthbender was an elusive one.

"Yajuu's his name." The guard said. "Curse that goon."

"Sounds like he's really giving you guys a hard time." Saaya empathized.

The soldier heaved as sigh, reclining on his chair. "If only you knew. We tried to take him in for disturbing the peace, and he decides to bang up a couple of my friends. Others tried to take him down, but only ended up getting wrecked in the process. That guy's a dangerous one."

"So none of the guards really want to try and apprehend him?"

The guard broke into mirthless laughter. "Not unless they wish to sign a death contract."

"You know where I can find him?"

"Not really sure, but he frequents the tavern. You can find it across the garrison. Patrons can guide you from there."

Saaya nodded his thanks and placed a gold piece on the table. The guard smiled his gratitude and saw the mercenary off.

The tavern was packed with townsfolk looking to shake off a day's fatigue. Drinks were flowing, and everyone minded their business. Saaya approached the nearest table with a few coins in hand and began inquiring about his prey. "Today's your lucky day then." One of the patrons said, pointing at the man seated alone across the room. Convinced, he paid the customer his bribe and made his way to his target.

"Yaaju, right?"

The earthbender let out a low, hostile growl at the arrival of the mercenary. "Who's asking?"

"Just my curiosity, really. You're the talk of the town, pal." Saaya grinned.

Yajuu eyed the rude crasher, slamming his mug on the table. "I'm not your pal, stranger."

"Come now," Saaya said, still smiling. "I just want to talk business. How's about I pay your tab, will that encourage you?"

"No."

Don't be so difficult now, you ox, Saaya wanted to say but the words died in his throat as he realized it wouldn't have been the wisest choice of words to utter during such a delicate situation. "How's about a bit more gold, then? Plus the tab."

"How's about I shove my boot down your throat? Plus the tab?"

If the earthbender ticked Saaya off, he sure as hell didn't show it. "Very well," the mercenary grinned and tipped his head low. "I will leave you be." In a flash, Saaya was out the door.

"Stubborn, and combat capable." Saaya muttered. "Not a good combination."


End file.
